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There’s fear in their expressions too. Not for themselves, but for me. An echo of the fear I felt when I realized I was alone in a house with a cold-blooded killer.
When I finish speaking, Linc surges off the couch and begins to pace around the room. He’s never been one to keep his emotions under wraps unless he has to, and right now, agitation is pouring off of him in waves.
River moves closer to me, his hand finding my knee and offering silent comfort as his gaze bounces from Linc to me to the twins, watching for the movement of our lips.
Lincoln stops abruptly mid-stride and turns to me, his eyes blazing like embers in a fire.
“You’re sure he doesn’t know?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure of anything right now, Linc. I told him I was just stressed because of my mom, and he seemed to buy that. But I don’t know. I’m good at spotting tells, but he’s got a crazy good poker face.”
He curses under his breath, scrubbing a hand through his dark, almost black hair. “Fuck. We can’t risk it.”
Then he turns toward River, making sure his friend is looking at him before speaking. Of course River is, because he’s amazingly good at following conversations even though he can’t hear most of what’s being said. Good enough that I didn’t figure out he was hearing impaired for several months, and most people at our school still don’t know.
“We need to get Harlow’s stuff from your place,” Linc says firmly. “Tonight.”
“What?” I blink, my gaze swiveling between the two of them. “Why? Where am I going?”
“Far away from here,” he growls.
“No.”
His gaze snaps to me, and I see something in his expression similar to what I saw the night Iris died. Lincoln is one of the most commanding guys I know, and he’s almost always in control. But he wasn’t that night, and he isn’t right now either.
“Yes, Harlow.” He moves toward me, his strides long and determined. “For all we know, Judge Hollowell knows everything. I’m not letting you stay here with a giant fucking target painted on your back. I’ll ship you off to another damn country if I have to.”
It sounds like he’s exaggerating, but one look into his eyes tells me he’s not.
But I shake my head again. “No.”
“Dammit—”
“No. I can’t go anywhere, Linc. I’m not leaving my mom behind. If I go, she stays in prison. Her trial comes and goes and Judge Hollowell pulls whatever strings he has to do make sure she gets convicted. I’m the only chance she has.”
He stops several feet away from the couch where I’m sitting next to River. The twins are in two chairs nearby, and all three boys watch the silent standoff between me and Linc.
“I get why you want me out of here,” I say softly, lowering my voice. “I wish it was that simple. But I can’t leave Mom. I can’t leave you guys.”
A dozen different emotions flash across his face, but it’s the last one that catches my attention most strongly. It’s something I can’t quite pinpoint, but it blazes strong and hot in his expression. It’s like possessiveness and pride all mixed into one.
I’ve never been one to slink off into the shadows or hide from a fight, and Linc likes that about me. He may hate it right now, but he can’t change who I am.
He chews on his lower lip, still staring at me intently for a few moments. Then he dips his head once. “Fine. You stay here. But”—he lifts a hand, the line of his brow hardening—“if we get even a hint that Judge Hollowell does know, that he’s planning on coming after you, I’m shipping you off myself.”
I nod. I hate this bargain, but I know Lincoln needs something to hold on to. And he may be right. I can’t help my mom at all if I’m dead.
On my right, River makes a small noise of defeat, and when I turn to face him, he’s shaking his head.
“Harlow… you should still probably get your stuff from my house. I don’t know if you should stay with me anymore.” His gray eyes churn like storm clouds. “My dad is pissed as fuck about my car. The towing company called him to confirm the drop-off at the mechanic, and he about lost his shit.”
My stomach clenches. River dismissed the damage to his car so quickly I pretty much forgot about it, but the truth is, I wrecked a vehicle that must’ve cost at least a hundred grand. And if the “you break it, you buy it” policy is in effect, I’ll be paying that shit off till the day I die.
“Shit, River. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse between you and your dad.”
He snorts a humorless laugh. “I don’t know what he’s so mad about. I never drove that stupid thing, I didn’t even want it, and he can afford to replace it without even blinking an eye. But it’s not about the money for him, it’s about the principle.”
I can believe that. River’s parents aren’t as disconnected from him as Dax and Chase’s are from the two of them, but I sometimes wonder if it’d be better if they were. I’m not sure if it’s related to River’s hearing impairment or something else entirely, but it seems like Mr. Bettencourt decided a long time ago that his son was a disappointment, and I don’t know if anything would change his mind.
